


a "watch"er no more

by kunkles



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: "thaos who" she says, Zaria aka my watcher's arch nemesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunkles/pseuds/kunkles
Summary: technically a wip but it's at least 90% there. here's my watcher gooing blind





	a "watch"er no more

Cyris has been travelling throughout the Dyrwood for a couple days now to escape the monotony of keeping Caed Nua running day to day, though she’s nearing the end of her trip as she gets closer and closer back to Nua. One more night, maybe two, sleeping outside looking up at the stars. She’d taken little with her except change of clothes, food, and a bedroll. She’d taken St Ydwen’s Redeemer only at the insistence of the guards at the gate who were worried for her safety. Having made her final camp in a small clearing, she’d eaten dinner and finally headed to bed. She’s a little disappointed to find only cloud cover when she looks up.  
“Typical.” She whispers as she turns onto her side half a second before an arrow pierces the ground next to her. She blinks a few times, staring at it, before sitting up and stretching as she grabs her sword. She doesn’t bother standing or even paying full attention to the mercenaries now doing their best to surround her, she’s pretty sure she knows who’s caught up with her, it’s only confirmed to her when she hears Zaria almost shout at her.  
“Cyris! You son of a bitch, i can’t believe you’re still alive.” she taunts, walking around Cyris in circles with her old weathered sword drawn.  
Cyris doesn’t bother even following her movements, standing up and using her sword as a weight to lean as as she stretches and finally getting a beat on the mercs her old partner has hired. There’s five, maybe six, of them so if she had her armour and her hammer they’d likely be no problem in the slightest. She left Abydon’s Hammer behind and took none of her armour, so she judges that she might get a scratch or two.  
“Don’t bother bragging to dead men,” she says, not looking at Zaria but looking at the mercs, “especially since i know that you’re getting sloppy. Sloppier than usual anyhow, it’s been a year since i’ve seen you.”  
Cyris twists and softly swings the sword in her hands to relearn its weight and balance. She’s strong enough as to be able to lift it with one arm, giving her the chance to prepare a missile spell with her hand hidden in her pocket. Keeping the spell balled up starts to burn her hand of course, but she easily judges that a potential injury her girlfriend can help treat is worth a surprise attack.  
“Everyone here will die if you try this again.” Cyris threatens, not letting her relief show when an aumaua aiming a pistol at her drops it and makes a beeline for the treeline. She holds her sword up and high as she can manage, enough to aim it at the pale elf’s heart. Predictably Zaria’s response is to bring her sword up above her head and make a lunge at her, an easy enough attack to dodge. A small step to the right and Cyris is safe again, and an elbow to the ribs even through leather armour is enough to bring the elf to the ground for a good second.  
A tense moment follows right after the attack, everyone looking at everyone else deciding whether to join the attack or not. She takes her left hand the rest of the way out her pocket both to allow the air to relieve the burning she’s now heavily feeling, and to see if doing so convinces anyone else to give up the job.  
Nobody does and Cyris has to react quickly when an elf draws back an arrow while aiming at her, finally throwing the missile spell. All three missiles strike them and throw them to the ground, small wisps of smoke emerging from the struck spots.  
She sighs, finally grabbing the handle with her other hand to a defensive stance. Only four enemies left already. “Fine.”  
A sidestep to the right allows her to dodge a barbian looking guy who comes running at her from her left with an axe, though doing so opens her up to a sharp scratch across the chest as another aumaua just about gets her with a dagger. Daggers don’t allow for much defense however, so she quickly dispatches the man in front of her as she swings clean through his arm to embed her sword straight into his chest, pulling back and slicing through him as she reels back and twists around, bringing her sword up to block another blade heading quickly toward her head. She holds her breath as she uses all her strength to keep herself safe, kicking her attacker backwards before swinging her sword 180 degrees clockwise, disemboweling the axe wielding barbarian. She goes to duck as Zaria finally rejoins the fray by swinging madly at her, though a gash to the leg from her left drops her to a kneeling position. The blood seeping into her shirt is starting to stick to her skin and her breath is getting shallow, her energy quickly being sapped from her. A quick nonchalant missile spell to the left finally dispatches the last merc, dropping and picking her sword back up. Getting to her feet brings the stinging pain of both injuries straight to the forefront of her mind, wincing as she turns around to face Zaria.  
“Told you they’d all end up dead.” Cyris brags while she catches her breath. She gets no response out of the pale elf except a charge towards her, to which she responds with a third simple sidestep to the right. A hard slice goes straight through Zaria’s arm, lopping it off just above the elbow. A soft kick to the back knocks her to the ground unconscious to bring about the dwarf’s victory.  
“Like i’ve said before, incompetent.” she sighs, stabbing her sword into the ground and rope from out of a pack a few feet, “Incompetent and predictable.”  
She swings the rope over her shoulder and goes over to grab Zaria’s remaining arm, aiming to tie her hand to the flat side of the sword buried into the ground. Glowing blue sparks from beyond the treeline catch her attention, however, and reacting faster than a lightning bolt heading for her face just is not possible in any way. The impact throws her backwards a good few feet. The exact second between hitting the ground and jolting awake in bed is utterly indistinguishable.

Sitting up in complete darkness, Cyris slowly begins reaching around the room to gain a sense of where and how she is. She feels bandages across her shirtless chest but a thicker than usual duvet to make up for the lack of clothing and more bandages covering the gash on her leg. Yet more bandages cover much of her face including her eyes, presumably accounting for her current lack of vision. A few rags cover bald and burnt patches along her head. She’d guess those rags were previously wet but haven’t been replaced for a few hours, likely meaning that the large and honestly painful lightning striking her burnt a lot of her hair. She feels nothing else either on or in the bed but her hand quickly hits a large handle off the side to the bed to her left. She slowly and frankly painfully turns onto her side just to sate her curiosity, grabbing the handle with both hands and slowly lifting it. The weight is hefty but she quickly recognises the balance and weight. Abydon’s Hammer brings her strange comfort


End file.
